


Bare Faced

by kiwi___bot



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Foursome - M/M/M/Other, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Masturbation, Multi, Mutual Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Other, Polyamory, Soulmates, Temperature Play, Trans Character, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-15 04:08:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28932261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiwi___bot/pseuds/kiwi___bot
Summary: There was something inside him that began to heal the first time someone looked at his face without hatred.
Relationships: Ghost/Guardian (Destiny), Ghost/Guardian/Glint/The Crow, Glint/The Crow (Destiny), Glint/Uldren Sov, Guardian/The Crow (Destiny), Guardian/Uldren Sov
Comments: 8
Kudos: 20





	Bare Faced

The Crow was molded by two things in his life: the love from his Ghost, and the contempt from the world. He learned early on how much he was worth to others, how quickly they will turn on him should he unmask. It didn’t take long to understand, when the guardians finished beating him long past death, to know that the safer life was spent locked behind a helmet.

Glint was the only one he could bare himself before. Where he was allowed to exist without feeling like he was a curse upon someone’s life. How deeply he was loved, how intense the small being of light could project the emotions and affections he felt for his Guardian.

When his breath is tight in his chest, and when his body is broken from the abuse from the guardians or the Spider, it takes the weight off his lungs when he can crawl into the ratty blankets and lumpy mattress and hold his beloved Glint to his chest and press kisses along his shell until neither of them think beyond the adoration and affection. Locked in a feedback loop of something Crow was afraid to lose should a Guardian turn on Glint; or perhaps if the Spider grew impatient and--

'You think too much.' Glint would whisper, in a voice that’s not aloud or silent, just: him. And Crow could not help but smile and lean into his shell and kiss him again, and find his mind eased. For just a moment.

So Crow found comfort in the clothes and armor that cover him, that protect his face from being his downfall. Each piece was another wall that would protect he and Glint, and the more that was hidden, the safer they will be.

A sacred ritual was held each night he spent with Glint. Piece by piece, layer by layer slowly peeled off until he was bare. To be laid exposed before his light was nothing short of euphoric, Glint looked at him like he were grander than the Traveler, and for those short moments at night, he felt like he could be.

Laid back like a Prince upon a grand bed in a elegant room, rather than an old cot somewhere on the EDZ. Glint would connect their minds in a way only a Ghost and their Guardian could; a link like no other. Each time, Crow is overwhelmed by the amount of love and adoration that spills forth from Glint, and the poor thing is just as drowned in Crow’s emotions-- faltering in his float and resting in his Guardian’s cupped palms.

Crow is silent as he breaths deep and slow, his skin tingling with this beloved mix of arousal and admiration and affection. His shaking hands pet over his Ghost’s shell, oh so careful to not harm him. Slipping his fingers just beneath the flaps of Glint’s chassis, and gasping as the pleasure loops between them. A strange feeling that has them both trembling, and Crow feels hot-- unbelievably so. Glint is a small beacon of warmth and heat, and Crow is desperate to feel it all. He presses his lips against the ‘eye’ of his lover, and Glint blearily blinks his optic, only able to mewl in response.

Some nights it’s Glint taking control-- figuratively and literally. Commanding Crow with a low, husky voice, watching with a lustful gaze as he makes Crow stroke himself to completion, again and again, until he’s pleading and shaking and unable to think about anything more than the pleasure coursing through his frame. And sometimes it is Crow with the reins; pressing his lover down onto the sheets with one hand and using the other to fuck his fingers beneath the arched wings of Glint’s shell: stroking his core until Glint cannot move after, his Light hot and molten.

And there are nights where they lie together, neither one holding the upper hand, just experiencing these moments of pleasure, giving and taking slow and careful. This night is calm, a lazy sort of sexual experience, but full of the same passion as any other. Crow is content just petting Glint’s core, the pleasure more than enough for them both, but Glint whispers a soft praise, calls him ‘Beautiful’ in a voice tinged with desperation, and Crow moves one hand down to grip himself, shuddering and gasping in unison with his lover. Petting and stroking with a slowness that builds into a crescendo of bliss, the pair gasping and moaning each other’s names in a quiet little song.

Crow is vulnerable yet loved by Glint when he is bare, and they are both safe from the world when he wears his armor.

The Spider corrupted that safety with his sigil; painted onto his cloak by a kind, but quiet Eliksni. It was the first thing he would tear from his body now; the sickening corruption of his captor itched his skin, and burned into his flesh in a way he couldn’t explain. The weeds only spread into the one thing he loved; he could feel nothing but ill when he saw the bulging spot in Glint’s shell-- a sign that they were owned, and nothing more than another pawn.

Crow was only loved by Glint, in a universe that would dance in his blood.

Until he was not.

The first Guardian who did not hold the violent disgust others did was young and new, like him. Crow did not know this when he first met them. They dressed the same as others, with glinting armor and glowing Light radiating from their very being. They felt different, somehow, but Crow was too focused to notice it before.

It was when they could only smile at his face, each time they returned, that he felt the flutter of something new inside his chest. Time spent with the Guardian is fleeting at first; passing moments between working on the lure. Discussing the Wrathborn and theories on what to do next to ease their pain only increase the time in each other’s company.

Crow learns their name is Hyacinth-1; a New Light, an Exo void of any resets. They confessed shyly that they were risen on Europa, and that they and their ghost Zephyr didn’t know a single thing about being Guardians; hell, they’d only been one a month now, and neither of them realized that they would be mixed up in this whole Wrathborn business.

“But I’m glad I got to meet you nonetheless,” Cinth admits in their quiet voice; gentle like the soft snowfall on Europa, and their small hand rests over his; ice cold. Crow feels a warmth nonetheless fill him, and it’s all he can do smile, his cheeks darkening with a flush.

Glint taught him this feeling. And he recognizes it early with Cinth. The way his eyes trail after them when they leave, and the way their soft voice make his heart pound, and the way their icy presence seems to calm the anxiety that constantly bubbles in his chest.

He confesses quietly to Glint on a night where he is too ashamed to undress; afraid that his Ghost would no longer love him, for loving another. He weeps openly, terrified of losing the one person who loved him for all these years. And Glint is kind as he cuddles close, and promises that he loves Crow no matter what.

“I can’t blame you, Crow.” Glint murmurs softly, his wings gently tickling the Awoken’s cheek as he presses against him. “They’re one of the nicest Guardians we have ever met. They don’t hurt you. How could I not love them too?” And Crow can only cup his Ghost and cry, feeling the warmth and relief flood him as they lay together.

It’s easy to confess things to Glint. It’s a completely new trial to someone else.

Crow does not say anything at first. He keeps his professional and platonic relationship in the front, not wanting to compromise anything just yet. But it’s so hard when they laugh at his jokes, when they both learn tricks with the Light together, and when he watches their eyes light up as they learn something new. The two of them are New Lights in a very, very old world, and that is perhaps why they got on so pleasantly.

He knows they don’t know anything of the person he used to be. They are confused by why he hides, and they do not flinch or cry or become angered at his face. They brush his hair from his eyes when he’s working, or wipe the dirt from his cheek after a good fight, or bump their head against his when he is frozen by anxiety. And when they smile and hold his hands in their ice cold ones, and tell him everything will be alright?

Crow knows he’s in deep.

It spills out one night when they are drinking. Cinth is new to a bottle, and Crow rarely drinks himself. So one bottle has them both light and fluffy and giggly. And Glint and Zephyr both shake their heads in playful disapproval before the Ghost pair settle on a log together: finding their own closeness over time.

Crow lays besides Cinth in the dirt and grass as they drunkenly recount tales of Europa, giggly and giddy. And all Crow can do is watch them in intoxicated awe. They’re so cold, like a harsh winter, and it cools his overheated frame. Their eyes sparkle like snowflakes, and he swears he can see the faintest gloss of ice over their hands. He is starstruck, swearing he sees the galaxy in their very being, and he moves before he thinks.

Their lips touch, and Cinth lets out a soft noise of surprise that fades to nothing. And they kiss for a long time until Crow breaks for air. The first gulp has him slurring out how much he loves them, how intensely he loved them, how afraid he was of losing them. The second has him spilling about how scared he was to finish these hunts, to never see them again, and that one day they might hate him when they learn about whatever he’s done.

He cries before he realizes it, but Cinth quickly wraps arms around him, and their soft, winter-song voice whispers to him.

“I will never leave you, Crow. I love you. You’re safe here.” And Crow only weeps more, and Glint is at his side in seconds, his wings tickling his cheek and warm against his skin, as Cinth’s icy embrace envelops him. A hot and cold mixture that he can only describe as home.

The first time he bares himself to them, the ritual is slow. As intimate as he and Glint’s he is far more afraid; the same fear of abandonment that haunts his waking moments terrorize him now, in a moment where he is supposed to be safe. But Cinth takes his warm hands in theirs, and kisses them, and their wordless love is all it takes to ease the fear.

Glint and Zephyr watch. Glint is Crow’s first lover, his other half to his soul, and the first to bear witness to the ritual of Crow’s undressing. And Zephyr is Cinth’s first lover, the one companion they had in their time lost on Europa. So the Ghost pair watch, both protective and both loving, and both eager to see their loves coupling.

Crow slowly removes his fabrics, and Cinth watches silently, pure love and adoration in their snowy gaze. Each piece is removed like the ribbons on a box, and set aside. Until Crow is bare once more, shaking minutely and flushed dark, almost embarrassed to be so exposed. Cinth’s breath leaves them in a sharp, cold burst, and they lean close, fingers barely hesitating over his skin, for just a short moment. A request for permission.

And Crow gives it.

They undress Cinth together, before they intertwin. Lips pressed to one another, Crow licking into their mouth, shuddering as they grind against him, soft noises of need escaping them. It is far far different from intercourse with Glint, in its own wonderfully unique way. Cold and comforting. They feel like ice on every inch of their metallic frame, and when his hands dip into divots to find wires to stroke, they arch and moan so prettily for him.

He can’t stop touching them, even when his cock is throbbing with need, and they flip the script; pressing him back and gently tangling their hand in his hair, pulling his head back slightly so they can nip at his throat. Leaving behind marks of this coupling for the world to see.

The Exo continues to take charge for this moment, silently requesting lubricant from Zephyr: who transmats it as quick as it is requested. They gently press fingers into Crow, watching with their bright, icy eyes as he shakes and gasps; sensitive and mewling. Fucking two, then three fingers into his fluttering hole, keeping one hand on his hair to make sure his neck is covered in love marks.

Crow bats their hands away after what feels like an eternity of them stroking at his prostate, shaking as his cock heavily leaks pre against his thigh. The Awoken takes charge once more, surging forward to kiss them roughly, teeth clicking unpleasantly against metal, but it is all worth it when his fingers find their drooling slit, and their weeping cock.

The Awoken knows he is talented with his hands, and despite his lack of experience in this department, he learns quickly: three fingers curling into their cunt and his hand stroking their cock quick. Cinth shudders and cries out, and Zephyr cannot help but float to their side, and they cup him against their cheek as they whimper.

Crow is not jealous. He finds the sight adorable, and pulls back before they can find their release. He gives them a moment to shake and collect themselves, as he stumbles to climb in their lap. Carefully, he grips their cock in his hand, and lowers himself onto it, gritting his teeth as it stretches him open; bordering on painful. He slips down until he is flush, and let’s out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

Tears prick at his eyes, and Glint is there in seconds, pressing his shell to Crow’s face, and whispering soft praise to him. Crow can only pant, his body struggling to relax. Cinth is so very cold, and although it is foreign, the feeling is wonderful, and he rolls his hips slowly once the pain fades. They moan, and shuffle to sit up, one hand still holding Zephyr-- and seemingly stroking under his shell-- as the other grips Crow’s waist. They help guide him into a rhythm, slow at first, but Crow is impatient.

He is quick to bounce on their cock, panting openly and groaning as they shift their hand from his waist to his cock. Glint is still murmuring that soft praise, and by the Traveler, it is doing things to him. Crow moves to cup Glint and eagerly shoves two fingers beneath his shell, making the Ghost jolt and moan out loud. Cinth punches out a strained laugh, their mind fuzzy with lust and passion, and they can only mumble, “Cute--” as they continue to stroke Zephyr’s core.

The sight of both their Ghosts, shaking in this pleasure, and the feeling of Cinth’s cock grinding into his prostate is all too much-- and Crow lets out a sharp cry hooking his free arm around them and burying his face into their neck. He moans, loud and eager, as he cums onto their bellies. And Cinth is close behind, erratic thrusts sharp as they fuck him through his climax, and reaching their own.

Their release is an icy flood inside him, and Crow hiccups and mewls at the feeling, his Light burning his frame. Their Ghosts, ever locked to them, orgasm in sync with their guardians: Zephyr peeping out a soft gasp, and Glint moaning Crow’s name. They come down from their highs slow, laying together for a very long time. Eventually, Crow comes to rest at their side, curled into them, and they curl against him as well, their Ghosts laid between their heads and fast asleep.

And Crow knows in this moment that he is cherished and treasured and loved. And if the world wanted to kill him, he knew he would be safe here. In this home he creates with Glint and Cinth and Zephyr.

The Crow was molded by two things in his life: the contempt from the world that wanted him dead, and the love from his Sun and his Moon. And each day he continued to live, Glint and Cinth continued to help him heal.

He was okay. It will be okay.

**Author's Note:**

> kiwi--dick is my tumblr


End file.
